Books. Hundreds of them. Every inch of wallspace in this spacious study is covered with bookshelves practically brimming with volumes of variable age, from ancient-looking leather-bound tomes to some of the latest hardcovers and paperbacks. A rolling ladder is attached to a brass railing that runs the entire perimeter of the room to permit access to the higher shelves. A large globe dominates one corner of this room; although it has the appearance of an antique model, the political boundaries on it are up to date. Several comfortably padded leather chairs are arranged around the room to accomodate readers. A marble fireplace and plush burgundy carpet give the room a warm, homey feel- like a favorite bookstore, but far nicer in decor.

The only entrance and exit to this sanctuary is a pair of wooden sliding doors that lead out to the third floor.

Various books are opened and placed upon a large central table. Many of the books are old texts dating back to the 1600s and others even further back. Hellstrom himself is wearing his 'costume' which consists of boots, slacks, and a high collared cloak with a bare chest giving way to a clear view of his birthmark emblazoned upon his chest. He stands at the head of the table with a tome in hand. He flips through the pages trying to glean some sliver of information regarding his most recent investigation.

The light of the room is moody low.

There's a flicker of energy that extends well beyond the visible spectrum, a brief spike of magic, and then Daimon is no longer alone. Satana teleports in directly to the right of his chair, one hand moving to rest upon the back as she looks over his shoulder. "Homework, at this late hour?" she asks softly.

Flipping the page once again, Hellstrom smiles and says, "I thought it best to do a little research and learn what it is we've gotten ourselves into, dear sister."

Satana purses her lips, tilting her head to peek around for a better view. "I've heard of Lilith, but not of the Lilin. I'd thought about summoning a demon for interrogation, but I'm not sure how well-disposed it would be. Given the circumstances and conflicting allegiances." The hand moves to his shoulder, her tough light. "I'd like the use of my old room, if you haven't sublet it out yet."

"That's a shame, I had plans to turn it into a Tibetan brothel. Now how will I ever make any extra cash needed to feed my demon pets?" Hellstrom smiles at his own creativity as he turns another page searching for answers.

Chuckling softly, she gives his shoulder a light squeeze and bends low to kiss the corner of his lips. "Thank you, brother. I will see if I can coax something out of a demon, but first I need sustenance. Does that pizza place still deliver? They had the -sweetest- delivery boys."

"It does. Just be careful not to devour him completely, I hate it when the irritated villagers come calling with pitchforks and torches in hand.", notes Hellstrom before pausing a moment to read a paragraph written in Latin.

When he turns his attention back to the book, she chuckles and makes her way towards the library door. "I'll call in a couple, then. And I'll only take a little sip. Promise." Pausing at the doorway, she bends low to unzip her boots.

Hellstrom does not look away from his words upon her departure, but knows the familiar sound and smiles as he reflects upon the shock of the pizza delivery boy(s).